


Business Unusual

by Tzalmavet



Category: OFF (Game)
Genre: Gen, all I can really say about this thing without spoiling it is, also let me know if I need to adjust the rating, don't try this kids at home
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-05
Updated: 2017-06-05
Packaged: 2018-11-09 04:18:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,150
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11096736
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tzalmavet/pseuds/Tzalmavet
Summary: The Batter comes to Zacharie with a strange request, and the merchant may get a little more than he bargains for.





	Business Unusual

Zacharie sat peacefully in his shop, humming wistfully as he polished out an empty bottle with a rag.  It was a good day in zone 2.  The smoke was fresh, the spot in the sky that vaguely resembled a sun was shining, things were looking up for his business, all excellent.

_**SLAM** _

Well, if it it wasn't the Batter!  Opening the mall doors with _gratuitous_ enthusiasm.  Zacharie set the half-cleaned bottle behind the counter and steepled his fingers, leaning forward presentably.  The Batter stood in the doorway, staring back at him.  Zacharie had come to really admire that inhumanly stiff and vacant look the Batter was giving him; it was similar to every other expression the Batter made, and the Batter always meant profits for Zacharie.

The Batter strode into the lobby, and, for the first time since they'd met, Zacharie had an unpleasant feeling about this.  The purifier was walking like he had a rod shoved up his spine, and there was just something _off_ about how rigidly his fingers were positioned.  The Batter loomed over Zacharie as he came up to the counter, and slammed his hands a little bit too loudly down on its metal surface.

 _" **Zacharie** ,"_ the taller man said forcefully, leaning in close.

"Aha! What can I get for you, today?" Zacharie answered cheerfully.  The Batter must have needed something quite badly, and he was already imagining himself counting the credits he was going to get out of him.

The Batter lowered his voice to almost a whisper, "Can we head into the back rooms for a moment?" he said, "And I don't mean Gomez Galleries. Somewhere with a large table."

Well _that_ was certainly an unusual request.  Zacharie wondered what he wanted to go into his storage and break areas for?  The Batter didn't seem like the sort of man to want to take a break from his job, even for a minute.  And besides, only Zacharie himself and a select few of his employees were allowed in those rooms, anyway.

"I'm sorry, Batter," he said, "I'm afraid you're not allowed--"

And was abruptly silenced by the Batter's hand darting forward and grabbing the front of his shirt in his fist.

Unused to being touched at all, much less roughly, Zacharie froze.  The Batter dragged him closer, and looked the merchant square in the eye.  He didn't say anything to Zacharie, but the _look_ he was giving Zacharie was making him uneasy.  What _was_ that look?  Hatred?  Pain?  Sorrow?  Anxiety?  Whatever it was, coupled with the stony, white-knuckled grip the Batter had on him, he knew for sure that it demanded _urgency_.

Zacharie cautiously tapped the arm holding him, and the Batter withdrew his hand.  "This way, friend," Zacharie muttered, quickly smoothing out his shirt and gesturing to a nearby door, "If you'll just step over the counter..."

As the Batter lurched himself over the counter with powerful concentration, Zacharie unlocked the door.  A tilt of his head, and the Batter was soon following him down the blue corridor.  Zacharie knew of a suitable room with a decent-sized table, and down here nobody would hear whatever the hell the Batter had in mind.

"I have a problem," the Batter said.  No shit?  Zacharie chuckled.

"Oh?" Zacharie purred, as they arrived at the door.  He turned the handle and they stepped inside.

"Yes. It is a problem that I encountered while I was purifying _your_ shopping mall," the Batter replied, glancing around.  Various tools and supplies were here and there, and the Batter sat himself down on the table in the center of the room.  "Do you have any medical experience?" he asked.

"Medical experience?" Zacharie replied.  Was he ill?  "I carry anything and everything you need to remedy your ailments, my friend."  The Batter stared at him, and quietly folded an arm across his midsection.

"About a week ago, I was taking a nap to recuperate while I was purifying Gomez Galleries," he said, "When I woke up, I felt most peculiar, and no amount of Abaddon’s meat, or even visiting the save blocks could make it go away."  His shoulders stiffened, and his voice lowered, "I fear that I have become _possessed_."

Zacharie regarded the Batter for a moment, crossing his arms across his chest, "And your first thought was to go to _me_ , instead of, say, a hospital? Or a priest?"  The Batter didn't answer, and Zacharie laughed.  He felt rather flattered by the Batter's faith in him, but secretly was already chalking it up to stupidity.  The man could barely even tie his shoes without his puppeteer's help.

"Here. I'll pay you," the Batter said, holding out four hundred credits to Zacharie, "Do something."  The merchant clasped his hands together at the sight.  He couldn't just _not_ take the Batter's money, could he?  Perish the thought.  Zacharie quickly snatched the credits from his hand and stuffed them neatly in his pocket.  He'd give it his best shot.

"So!" Zacharie laughed, eagerly stepping up next to where the Batter sat, "Where does it hurt, amigo?"

The Batter modestly pointed a finger just below his stomach, "Here."

So he was really in pain?   _Interesting._  "Why don't you lie down on this table here so I can get a better look at you?" Zacharie asked.  The Batter at once took his tunic off, tossing it and his bat to the floor.  He then rolled up his black undershirt to expose his abdomen, and obediently positioned himself face up and flat on the table.

Zacharie hummed as professionally as he could, and gently pressed his ear against the Batter's stomach.  He had no idea what to listen for, but the flesh felt cold and damp.  Whatever fears he held, the Batter sure did a killing job on not expressing them through his face.  Typical Batter.  Zacharie realized he'd never really been this close to him before, and listened extra hard.  From what he could tell, there was nothing that didn't sound like ordinary bodily functioning.

"Well?" the Batter whispered impatiently.  Zacharie stood up and put his hands on his hips.

"Well, Batter. I'm no _doctor_ , but I didn't hear anything out of the ordinary," he said, and playfully poked a finger into the Batter's stomach.

And immediately felt the Batter's hand slam directly into his face.

It all happened in an instant, but none of it passed him by.  The Batter's fingernails scratched against his mask and hair at the moment of collision, and Zacharie felt something _squirm_ underneath his prodding finger.  The Batter moaned and squeezed the edge of the table with his free hand, clutching at Zacharie's head with the other.  They both shivered.

Oh no.  Oh _hell_ , no.

The Batter looked up at Zacharie desperately, sweat beading on his forehead.  "Do you have a knife?" he strained out.

Zacharie jumped back, frantically dislodging the Batter's hand.  He was very relieved then that his mask concealed his panic; he'd've hated for the Batter to catch him breaking his cool demeanor.

"That'll cost you extra!" Zacharie said, a little louder than he meant to.  "You didn't mention that I might have to perform _surgery_ of all things!"

"I'll pay you afterwards!" the Batter sat up, shaking and clutching at his gut, eyes dilated, "Hurry up!"

Zacharie's hands shook.  He was _not_ cut out to be anything other than a simple salesman.  This wasn't where he was ever supposed to end up.  But how bad would it look on his business reputation if he just ran away?!  He dashed over to a crate and frantically rifled through it for something sharp.  Lots and lots of hammers and pliers until _yes!_  A box cutter!  Not a scalpel, but he'd make it work.  He was gonna get paid _so much_ for this.

The Batter groaned and writhed as Zacharie laid him flat on his back again.  Zacharie told him to hold still or else, and the Batter reduced himself to shuddering and quietly pulled his shirt up a bit more as Zacharie extended the blade from its plastic sheath.

"Um..."

Oh, shit, he had to slice him.  Zacharie carefully hovered the tip of the blade over the Batter's pale stomach.  He held his other hand down on the Batter's chest to keep him still, but his breathing and trembling couldn't be helped.  Where did he even have to start?  Sure, fortune tickets could heal any damage, and a Joker could be used if he _really_ screwed up, but he still didn't want to _hack blindly_.  Did he need to cut towards or away from the sternum?  What shape incision did he need to carve?  Where even _was_ the damned thing he was supposed to be removing?

 _"_ ** _Give me that!!_** _"_ the Batter shouted, shoving Zacharie aside and snatching the box cutter from his hand.

Zacharie staggered back and, before he could even properly regain his balance, the Batter plunged the cutter into his own abdomen and violently jerked it backwards, carving a wide, nasty gash up his belly.  The Batter hissed in pain as Zacharie gawked, unable to look away.  They both stared as blood poured out from the wound, and the Batter's face twisted into a snarl.  That must not have been enough for some reason, because the Batter brought the blade down and dragged it  _again_ , deepening his first cut.

The Batter arched his back, bracing his feet against the table to almost sit upright, and shoved his free hand into the hole he'd made.  As he coughed and slowly bled out, Zacharie could still only gawk.  'Take it easy, friend!' he wanted to say, but only comically brought his hands to his face, too transfixed to cover his eyes.  He heard squelching as the Batter prodded inside himself with his fingers, sorting through his intestines.

The Batter made a triumphant-sounding grunt, then quickly yanked out a loop of intestine.  He held it tightly, and Zacharie saw the thing coil and shift in the Batter's hand, like a snake.  Zacharie felt his own stomach turning in response.  The Batter took the box cutter and sliced open the fleshy tube, and, discarding the cutter, reached his fingers inside.

The Batter secured a grip on the thing, and smoothly pulled it out of his torso for the world to see.  It was a white, serpentine ghoul with tiny useless flaps for limbs and ears, and it growled and hissed as it flailed violently in the Batter's grip.  He and Zacharie stared at the offensive creature which had caused all this trouble, and the Batter bared his teeth in rage.

He shifted his grip on the squirming thing and twisted it in his hands.  Zacharie winced a bit as he heard bones crunch and the thing screech in pain, he wasn't usually around when the Batter purified his opponents.  But the Batter wasn't done yet.  He lifted the ghoul up to his face and bit down on its head, grinding his jaws together.  The thing squealed and squealed, until finally, _snap!_  Its little skull popped under the pressure and its body went limp.

The Batter then summoned Add-On Alpha into the room, and immediately flung the corpse at it.  Glowing powerfully, Alpha vaporized the remains on contact, and with a _poof_ , the thing was no more.

_" **Adversary purified.** "_

Some tension remained in the room, and Zacharie blinked as the Batter set to cramming his organs back into place.  He pulled some luck tickets from his inventory, and pressed them into his wound; they glowed softly as they absorbed the damage and the cuts healed.  The Batter hopped down from the table.  He tucked his undershirt back in and put his tunic back on.  He picked his bat off the floor and looked at Zacharie, who couldn't think of what to say.  What could he?  Just another day in the life of the Batter, he guessed..?

The Batter walked up to Zacharie and pressed some credits into his hands.

"For your trouble," he said flatly, and patted Zacharie on the shoulder before marching out of the room back to go on purifying the world. 

Zacharie stood quietly as the Batter left him alone with the aftermath.  Blood was all over the table and splattered on the floor, and the smell of iron smelled almost as strong as the meat fountains of Alma had.  He was quite honestly impressed with himself for not puking his guts out after having to see someone else's, but he was already dreading having to explain the bloody mess to whatever pour soul had to clean it up.

In the distance, he heard a door shut, and realized that he needed to be back at the entrance of the mall.  His eyes wandered to where the Batter had patted his shoulder, and he felt the blood from his handprint seeping through the fabric as he rubbed at the credits in his hands.

He'd count them later.

**Author's Note:**

> Moral of the story: Don't sleep with your mouth open, especially in a shopping mall.


End file.
